


a stubborn idiot

by iceprinceofbelair



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Gen, Minor Injuries, mentions of depression, viktor is stubborn af
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-09
Updated: 2017-05-09
Packaged: 2018-10-30 01:48:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10866480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iceprinceofbelair/pseuds/iceprinceofbelair
Summary: Viktor has a sprained ankle but wants to skate and Yuuri can't say no to his stupid puppy dog eyes.





	a stubborn idiot

Yuuri is pretty sure Viktor is the biggest diva he has ever met in his life. He treats minor abrasions like life threatening injuries and colds like terminal illnesses. Yuuri can’t help but find it endearing. 

It stands to reason, therefore, that he’d be even more impossible when he actually  _ does  _ have a more serious injury. And he is. Just not in the way Yuuri had expected.

“Yuuri, please, I’ll be careful!” Viktor whines, pouting at Yuuri with those massive puppy dog eyes which make Yuuri go weak at the knees. His eyes are so damn  _ blue.  _

Yuuri frowns. “The doctor said no, Vitya,” he reasons and Viktor’s pout intensifies.

“But I’ve been doing nothing for three days, Yuuri. Three days!” He laments, throwing an arm over his eyes dramatically. “Jesus Christ rose from the dead in that time and I’ve been playing Super Mario.”

“And look how good you’ve gotten,” Yuuri teases. “You might be able to give Phichit a run for his money now.”

Viktor just sighs and Yuuri feels the mood shift from playful to pensive. Though Viktor’s restlessness over the past few days has been fun to joke about, Yuuri knows it’s starting to really get to him. For someone like Viktor, three days off the ice is like a lifetime, especially when it’s the only place he wants to be. Thank goodness it’s the off-season because Yuuri has no doubt that Viktor would have to be physically restrained if he was kept from practicing when it mattered.

Yuuri wishes he could just say yes, of course they could go to the rink and mess around with choreography but the fact of the matter is that Viktor’s right ankle is badly sprained and, if he wants it to get better, he  _ needs  _ to rest.

But Yuuri can practically feel the stress building inside his fiancé. Yuuri might be the one with diagnosed anxiety but he’s not the only one who gets antsy when forced to rest. And besides - they’ve never used the word itself but they both know that Viktor has struggled most of his life with some kind of depression. Yuuri doesn’t want to see him slip back into that. Yuuri doesn’t want to see him like this.

So maybe that’s what breaks him in the end. Maybe that’s why he leans forward and presses a lingering kiss to Viktor’s forehead and says, “How about we do some edges?”

Viktor’s eyes meet his and the guarded hope Yuuri sees in them makes his heart leap. 

“Just edge work though, Vitya,” Yuuri adds sternly. “If I see so much as a waltz jump, we’re coming straight home.”

Viktor practically leaps out of bed, apparently forgetting momentarily about his ankle because he lets out a soft gasp when he first puts weight on it. But then he’s smiling and it might be strained but Yuuri thinks it’s still beautiful.

“I’m fine,” he says though it’s far from reassuring.

Yuuri just nods.

~

Viktor isn’t up for this.

It becomes apparent as soon as he tries to cross the short distance between the bench and the ice that the stiff boot of his skate is hurting him. Still, he removes his skate guards and steps onto the ice before Yuuri can say anything.

The ice works wonders for Viktor; it’s like the tension in his body just melts away.

Yuuri watches him skate laps. To the casual observer, Viktor looks at home. But Yuuri has grown up idolising this man and he knows that Viktor is in pain. He can see it in the slight hesitance of his crosscuts and the way he favours his left leg when he turns. His expression is passive and Yuuri is all too suddenly reminded of how skilled Viktor truly is when it comes to hiding his feelings.

Viktor is a drama queen but he’s also absolutely terrible for downplaying anything more serious than a post-workout muscle ache.

The rink is quiet - it’s one o’clock on a Tuesday afternoon, after all - and mostly comprised of adult amateurs and the occasional college student. Yuuri’s eye catches someone practicing a Salchow; they look so happy when they land it. Yuuri smiles as criticisms about their free leg position and landing come racing through his head in Yakov’s voice.

(Sometimes it’s easy to forget that some people just skate for fun without an incessant slew of criticisms coming at them from the sidelines.)

When Viktor settles into some compulsory figure practice - a paragraph loop, by the looks of things, though Yuuri is a little far away to tell - Yuuri finally removes his own skate guards and starts lazily lapping the rink. He keeps one eye on his unpredictable fiancé all the while. He sincerely hopes Viktor will listen to his body and won’t attempt any jumps but he’s also lived with the idiot long enough to know that Viktor almost never does as Yuuri hopes or expects.

“Hey,” he says softly, catching Viktor’s wrist as he completes another tracing of his figure. Viktor looks up. Smiles. Yuuri almost chokes. He’s so beautiful. “Doing okay?”

Viktor isn’t doing okay. All his weight is on his left. Yuuri can see it in his stance. But his stupid fiancé nods anyway.

“I’ve never seen you actually practice figures before,” Yuuri observes. “I thought you said they were ‘sent from hell to smite me, Yuuri’ last time I suggested it.”

Viktor laughs softly. “I might have gained a certain appreciation for them after watching you skate them so beautifully.”

Yuuri feels two spots of pink appear high on his cheeks but it’s a blush of quiet delight more than embarrassment. Viktor sighs, content. 

“I’ve missed this,” he mutters, digging his toepick into the ice almost fondly. “Feels nice to skate it all out.”

Viktor doesn’t have to specify what he means by  _ it.  _ Honestly, Yuuri isn’t certain if Viktor even knows how to explain the anxiety and sadness and exhaustion which sometimes overcomes him. If Yuuri were a professional, he might call it depression but Yuuri is not a professional so he refers to it as Viktor does, as the hollowness which crawls under his skin.

Yuuri shuffles closer and stands on his toepicks to kiss Viktor’s cold cheek. “I love you,” he says quietly.

As much as he’s worried about Viktor’s ankle, he has to admit that it’s nice to be back on the ice with him. So he accepts Viktor’s offered hand and they settle into lazy laps around the perimeter, skillfully dodging less experienced skaters who wobble into their path. Viktor’s palm is warm but his fingertips are cold where they rest against the back of Yuuri’s hand. Yuuri feels an overwhelming surge of warmth and affection for this man as he looks down at their joined hands. When he sees Viktor’s thumb resting on his ring, he feels his heart swelling with unbridled delight.

Yuuri loves him. He really, really loves him.

In the end, it’s a snowplough stop which is Viktor’s downfall. He pushes into the ice to slow himself and lets out a sudden shriek of pain which carries in the quiet of the rink. A few other skaters stop to look at them but Yuuri doesn’t pay them any attention.

“Vitya?” He says gently, wrapping an arm around his fiancé’s waist to support him while he pulls him off the ice. Viktor’s blue eyes are welling with tears though he’s valiantly trying to fight them back. “Enough?”

Thankfully, Viktor seems to come to his senses and he nods miserably, limping over to the benches and letting Yuuri lower him down. Yuuri sits in front of him and starts unlacing his right skate, pulling it off (with a pained wince from Viktor) to reveal his stupid fiancé’s swelling ankle. Yuuri bites his lip and makes quick work of Viktor’s other skate before unlacing his own.

“We’ll get some ice on that when we get home, okay?” Yuuri suggests tentatively while he and Viktor are drying their blades. “I think we’ve still got some sports bandages so I’ll wrap it for you too.”

Viktor frowns. “I should have listened to you.”

“You should have,” Yuuri agrees, tone faintly amused. “But I’m not marrying you for your obedience.”

That gets a little smile from Viktor. “You are marrying me though? Even though I’m stupid.”

Yuuri kisses him and it’s gentle and quick because he wants to get Viktor’s ankle seen to as soon as possible but it’s full of love all the same.

“Absolutely.”

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this bc I sprained my ankle and couldn't skate and wanted to get my frustrations out through this moron


End file.
